


A little less conversation, a little more action

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: BruJay Week, Day Two, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jason died, Jason is Red Hood, M/M, accidental sugar daddy Bruce, oblivious Jason, prompt: dating/courting, sweetheart Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: When gifts start showing up, Jason is convinced he’s figured out why, but the real reason will completely blow him away.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93
Collections: BruJay Week 2021





	A little less conversation, a little more action

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the BruJay week 2021, day two.

The gifts started arriving some time in early March. Jason had been out on a regular patrol on one of Gotham’s quieter nights and came home to a neatly wrapped gift. The matte black paper cut through with the shimmery black satin of the ribbon.

Opening it, after a raft of tests despite knowing exactly who sent it because you can never be too careful in their line of work, has Jason’s heart beating that little bit faster. His naturally low heart rate reaching normal with how the hardback book feels in his hands. Embossed letters catching on callouses from years in the business. Three little words in faded gold punching him back to a simpler time. Back to a time when it had been the two of them against the world, instead of the two of them against each other.

_Sense and Sensibility._

He spends so long lost in his memories that the room, just beginning to lighten when he arrived, was full to bursting with the winter sunlight. The brightness catching him off guard as he stumbled. His limbs stiff after missing his routine cool down stretches. One too many injuries to his right knee meaning it was locked completely.

With a barely concealed wince and swallowed cry of pain he’d forced himself to put the book down and get into bed. It didn’t mean anything. Not anything in the ways the young man wants it too. Not the heart stopping, butterfly inducing, nervous excitement he’s _always_ wanted it to be since bursting from the pit.

Two weeks later, he got another gift. Same matte black paper and satin ribbon. Only this time it is a selection of teas from around the world. Small batches so they can’t go stale. Each one carefully packaged to maintain their freshness and enable him to enjoy the full flavour profile.

A new laptop turned up two weeks after that. Fully loaded with everything the modern vigilante could need, along with everything they sometimes didn’t have time for. A raft of streaming services that seemed to only have profiles for himself and Bruce, none of the other family appearing on any of them. Additionally, it was also incredibly strong and resistant to just about anything Jason could put it through. Including, but not limited to; coffee (hot or cold), bacon grease, liquid explosive, putty explosive that needed to be removed with liquid nitrogen, and his 195lb ass falling on it and bleeding all over it after a rough night. No matter what happened to it, it continued to be super fast and have an incredible memory capacity.

So it continued. Every two weeks, like clockwork, a new gift would appear in whichever safe-house Jason was staying in. They turned up in his main Gotham apartment, his tiny box-flat in Paris, and his log cabin far from any form of civilisation in the Canadian wilderness. There was even one memorable occasion where one appeared on the beach of Outlaw Island. No alarms triggered and no RoyBots destroyed.

By the time it reached his birthday Jason had resigned himself to the truth behind the gifts. After all the years they’d missed, arguing or through death, the man was clearly trying to make up for every birthday. It didn’t matter that they’d been on good terms for the past seven years, Jason’s 21st birthday being the turning point for them, and that he’d received thirteen presents so far. It _had_ to be a regret thing, some way for Bruce to repent for his failures.

As his 28th birthday rang in with the recorded chime for Gotham’s clocktower, a way for Oracle to hide her base but not destroy Gotham’s history, Jason thought about everything that had happened over the past few months. Gotham spread far below him, feet dangling over the ridiculously high drop, and his helmet sat beside him there was no-one to badger or tease him about them ~~Roy~~. There was just the perpetual smog and the silence being so high granted you.

It was easier than he expected to admit that the gestures had been appreciated. More than once he’d ended up watching a movie with Bruce via video chat. Then there was the time Bruce had stolen an entire batch of Alfred’s cookies, prompting a massive hunt by the rest of the Bats for the culprit, only for Jason to discover them sitting on his countertop half a world away.

A rustle of cape was all the warning Jason was given before a familiar figure dropped down beside him. The cowl pushed back thanks to being on the tallest building in Gotham and in the rooftop cameras’ blind spot. Another matte black package set into his lap while he’d been scanning the older man for injuries.

“Thanks,” Jason shot Bruce a crooked smile. It wasn’t anywhere close to the one he’d had as Robin. There was a hardness about it now, a harsh reminder of all life continued to throw at the pair of them. Scars twisting it and forcing it into something smaller than the blinding one he’d had in a previous life. Still, to those that knew Jason, really knew him that is, it was no less perfect.

Bruce just hummed and nodded towards the gift.

The paper fell away with one pull on the elegantly tied bow. Satin and expensive paper flowing open to reveal a box in a deep red. The lid just tight enough to keep its contents secure. A flick of the wrist removing it.

Two plane tickets sat nestled amongst red and black velvet with two rings sat below them. One was clearly a white metal of some kind with shards of Pearl running through the centre, the other just the white metal. Matching rings, a set clearly meant for a couple.

Glancing at the tickets Jason noticed they were for a showing of Hamlet at the Globe Theatre, London, in three days time. A wave of excitement washed through him. He would be getting to watch Sir Patrick Stewart with the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Globe Theatre! It was a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity.

There was only one problem.

More accurately, two problems that were almost identical. What in the sweet hell of Satan’s Armpit (also more commonly called Gotham) were the rings about. There were no cases Jason knew of that would involve them attending the show, or even being in the UK for that matter.

“I hope you’ll say yes.” Bruce had always sounded confident. A man who knew what he wanted and who’s opinion was listened to. That is until he’d spoken that night. Now he sounded flustered, nervous almost.

“To the Globe? Why would I say no?” Jason made his confusion evident. With Bruce being so open it was only fair he gave the man the same level of emotional honesty.

Bruce cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and reached up to cup Jason’s face with one hand while helping support the box with his other. “You know I struggle sometimes and I had hoped these last few months had made my intentions, no, my feelings, known. I can see now I was wrong.”

Jason couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His every atom focused on the man he’d loved for so many years. Drinking in the sight of mild anxiety that was being slowly tempered with a bashfulness he found endearing.

“Will you marry me?”


End file.
